Author's Note:
I hope you like this chapter; I had some trouble finding the right ideas to write it.
In some stories, everything comes out naturally, while with others, I need more effort or the right stimulus.
All in all, I think I did a decent job.
XXX
Story Arc: The CEO of RobCo Industries
Episode 1: I am… Universal Genius! (II)
Chapter 2: Infiltrators
Plot: RobCo Industries has become an object of interest for many people and factions; some remain to observe from the sidelines, while others carry out their plans.
XXX
POV Narrator
The flash of professional spotlights pierced the air of the Las Vegas photo studio with the intensity of a controlled lightning bolt. At every single click of the shutter, an entire team of makeup artists, hairstylists, and art directors held their breath. At the center of that stage of lights stood Shin Jae-eun, the twenty-three-year-old supermodel who had bewitched North America, becoming the global face and brand ambassador of RobCo Industries.
The public was literally obsessed with her. The fact that in every single public appearance of Leonardo House she was always a few centimeters away from the young, androgynous CEO had sparked an uncontrollable media wildfire. To the legions of fanboys and fangirls across social media, she was simply "The Genius's Muse." The total absence of official confirmations regarding their alleged relationship only added fuel to the fire of tabloids and gossip columns. Naturally, success also attracted venom. Her fiercest detractors accused her of being a cynical social climber, a gold digger capable of seducing a twenty-five-year-old billionaire to monopolize the continent's most prestigious covers; others, blinded by sterile hyper-nationalism, muttered that a model of South Korean origins should never represent a historically American industrial colossus.
Futile rumors. The reality moving in front of the lens was a living work of art. Standing 165 centimeters tall, Shin Jae-eun possessed ivory skin so pale, smooth, and reflective under the lights that she looked like liquid porcelain. Her physique was a triumph of sinuous and athletic curves: a perfect hourglass silhouette, sculpted by astounding proportions (B84/W56/H86) that emphasized her pronounced hips and an incredibly slender waist. Her features, soft and markedly youthful, were dominated by large, expressive brown eyes, a slender nose, and a sharp jawline that gave her a regal profile. Her hair, a deep raven black that absorbed the studio lights, was gathered into a very long, high ponytail that swung well past the line of her back, while in the front, a straight and geometrically symmetrical fringe framed her face along with two side strands.
In that moment, Shin Jae-eun embodied RobCo's retro-futuristic dream. She wore a space suit in perfect Atompunk and pin-up style, inspired by the science fiction imagery of the 1950s and 1960s. The highlight was an ultra-tight, two-tone catsuit: the upper bodice, predominantly pristine white, hugged her torso and opened into a deep, daring neckline, while bright fire-red inserts outlined her shoulders and ran down her hips, accentuating her athletic line. Her face was enclosed in a large, spherical crystal helmet, completely transparent, anchored to a heavy black and red technological collar; corrugated hoses extended from that junction, connecting to a compact jetpack mounted on her shoulders. The thruster, painted in a metallic red, served as both an oxygen reserve and an autonomous flight system. Long, glossy black gloves with scarlet cuffs enveloped her slender arms, while her legs were wrapped in black thigh-high boots that extended above the knee, ending in high, thin stiletto heels that clinked rhythmically on the floor. Completing the outfit, a sturdy black military belt cinched her waist, displaying a steel buckle and a side holster that housed a chromed laser pistol.
The reason for that stellar disguise was only one: the promotional relaunch of Nuka-Cola Galaxy, the legendary soda presented in a revolutionary rocket-shaped glass bottle.
The global market had been thunderstruck by the return of this piece of American history, which had vanished from the radar for decades due to one of the darkest scandals of the twentieth century. In the 1950s and 1960s, the Nuka-Cola Corporation was the undisputed Titan of the soft drink industry in the United States. However, the empire collapsed suddenly when the FBI and the FDA arrested its legendary founder, John-Caleb Bradberton. The criminal investigations revealed a chilling truth: in an attempt to give the drink a unique flavor and its famous fluorescent blue glowing effect, Bradberton's team had mixed the formula with a radioactive isotope. Before scientists deemed the compound "safe" enough, no fewer than 62 human guinea pigs died during secret testing, and the surviving consumers began to display a bizarre bioluminescence in their urine.
With Bradberton locked away in a maximum-security penitentiary and the company besieged by lawsuits from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, the Nuka-Cola brand plummeted. No sane citizen would ever press their lips against a radioactive product again. It was then that Robert House, sensing the long-term value of that disaster, bought the entire intellectual property and secret recipes for pennies, confident that he would one day clean up the brand to integrate it into RobCo. Robert, however, had been too absorbed in robotics to follow through with the project.
Everything changed with the advent of Leonardo House. Searching through the locked terminals of the Lucky 38 and the inventory of assets inherited from his grandfather, the new CEO not only cleaned up Nuka-Cola's chemical formula—eliminating all traces of radiation—but also discovered he had inherited a private spaceport and an orbital space station. If Robert House had laid the foundations for the colonization of the solar system, Leonardo had already aimed his telescopes straight at Mars, intending to turn science fiction into reality.
In the studio, Shin Jae-eun continued to move under the spotlights, alternating sweet poses, alluring glances, and decidedly sexy postures that enhanced the Atompunk design of the suit. Despite the staff consisting of professionals accustomed to working with the most beautiful women on the planet, the entire crew struggled to take their eyes off her. Her magnetic presence filled the room.
"I think we're done for today! The photographs, as always, are as brilliant as the stars in the cosmic vacuum!" the photographer, Marcos Del Posey, finally exclaimed. Marcos was an eccentric man, with flashy glasses and a silk scarf that fluttered with every movement, but his skill with the lens was legendary; it was no coincidence that he was the only one to whom RobCo entrusted the image of its Muse, in addition to managing photo shoots for pop celebrities like the Big Time Rush.
"Great job, boys and girls!" Shin Jae-eun exclaimed with a radiant smile.
With a fluid movement of her gloved hands, she unlocked the hydraulic latches of the technological collar: a soft hiss of compressed air echoed in the studio as she slid off the bubble helmet, casually tucking it under her arm. Her long, raven-black hair broke free, swaying softly down her back. The supermodel stepped down from the illuminated platform and headed toward her private cabin to relax, exchanging cordial greetings and genuine smiles with the technicians, electricians, and designers she encountered along the way.
'Such a spectacular, kind girl, and completely free of toxic diva pretensions... that Leonardo House must truly be the luckiest man in the world,' Marcos Del Posey thought to himself, organizing the digital files on his camera with a satisfied smile.
XXX
Within the intimacy of her private cabin, Shin Jae-eun finally allowed herself an entire minute of absolute silence. Seated on the velvet-upholstered chair, she remained there observing her own reflection in the large, illuminated mirror, enjoying the quiet after the acoustic and visual bombardment of the camera flashes.
The lacquered wooden door opened with a fluid rustle, interrupting that brief bubble of peace. Making her entrance was Natalie Rushman, the supermodel's personal assistant, an enigmatic and impeccable figure tasked with offering her strategic counsel in the world of high fashion and managing her most delicate affairs.
Natalie Rushman was a twenty-six-year-old woman of magnetic and almost lethal beauty, standing 170 centimeters tall. Her fair skin, smooth and devoid of the slightest imperfection, seemed to glow with its own light. Beneath the tailored cut of her clothes, one could discern a slender, toned hourglass physique: extraordinarily sinuous proportions (B91/W66/H91) that outlined harmonious curves and an athletic line—a hint of powerful, perfectly trained musculature disguised with feline grace. That she was a former model was immediately striking to the eye. Her features were a symmetrical trap: large feline eyes of a light, deep, and indecipherable green, a slender nose, and full lips contoured with millimetric definition. Her hair was a cascade of intense copper-red, styled in soft, voluminous, and glossy curls that fell past her shoulders, while a sharp side part left her face uncovered, enhancing her gaze.
At the moment, Natalie wore a formal office suit that combined austere managerial precision with the seductive charm of a pin-up. The highlight was a two-tone sheath dress: the central and upper section was a dark plum shade, shaped to hug her torso like a tight bodice with a square neckline that was discreet yet flattering. Along her hips and shoulders, deep black decorative inserts and stitching further elongated her figure. Her face was enhanced by light but hypnotic makeup, defined by a sharp line of black eyeliner and a satin nude lipstick. Around her neck, she wore a very thin gold chain from which hung a small geometric element. A slender black leather belt with a minimalist metallic buckle marked her waist, while her legs were wrapped in dark, sheer stockings and elongated by glossy black patent leather pumps, supported by stiletto heels ten centimeters high and as thin as pins.
Between her slender fingers, the assistant clutched a wax paper bag containing pastries and a bright green can of a carbonated drink.
"Miss Shin, I brought you the snack you asked for," Natalie began, placing the bag on the vanity table, right next to a very few cosmetics. After all, on that porcelain face, there was very little to improve.
"Thank you, Natalie," Shin Jae-eun replied. With a swift movement, she grabbed the green can, popped it open with a sharp metallic click, and drank its contents all in one gulp, barely pausing for breath.
"You really do love carbonated drinks," the red-haired assistant observed, tilting her head slightly as her green eyes recorded every detail.
"I can't help it. I adore these kinds of drinks, and I'm crazy about the cans... they are so colorful, smooth, and cold," Shin Jae-eun replied, sliding her gloved index finger along the shiny metal with an almost childlike, playful gesture.
'In my career, I've seen far crazier things, but this bizarre obsession deserves a note in the reports,' Natalie thought, engraving that seemingly naive yet singular behavior of the supermodel into her mind.
"I have no official engagements on my schedule for the next two days. You are free to do whatever you wish, Natalie," Shin Jae-eun said. Meanwhile, she opened a small drawer of the vanity, pulled out a permanent marker, and began to carefully trace symbols onto the surface of the empty can.
"Does this mean you are going to enjoy yourself with your billionaire boyfriend?" Natalie asked, adopting a light, complicit tone, typical of a secretary fond of high-society gossip.
"Leo is not my boyfriend," Shin Jae-eun clarified immediately with total ease, by now accustomed to the media and the entire world fabricating non-existent love stories between her and RobCo's very young CEO.
"Boyfriend or not, are you going to treat yourself to a memorable trip during these first few days, Miss Shin? Europe, Asia, South America?" Natalie pressed on, rattling off a list of the most exclusive destinations frequented by the international jet set.
The supermodel placed her index finger on her full lips, remaining silent for a moment to reflect. Then, lowering her hand, she replied: "Honestly, I don't know. Marinette is supposed to return today from a very important commercial negotiation. There will definitely be a huge success to celebrate, but the how and the where remain an absolute mystery for now."
"Maybe you'll organize a private party at the zoo. I'm ready to bet that Mr. House will want to try riding a giraffe or a rhinoceros this time," Natalie commented, flashing a friendly, amused smile.
"It's a concrete possibility. Leo really likes climbing onto the backs of exotic animals," Shin Jae-eun admitted, with a half-laugh that lit up her eyes.
"I often wonder what drives him to do it," the assistant asked, keeping the conversation on a seemingly harmless and light track, ideal for gathering spontaneous information.
"I think he does it for pure personal fun. Although, to be entirely honest, a bit of scandalous free publicity in the tabloids never hurts the company's business," the model explained, rising from her chair and grabbing her high-fashion handbag.
"Aren't you going to change your clothes?" Natalie asked, indicating with an elegant nod of her hand the complex and flashy Atompunk space suit that the girl was still wearing.
"No, I've decided I'll keep this costume on for the rest of the day. I am absolutely sure Leo will be pleased to see me in something so unique and extravagant," Shin Jae-eun declared. With a flash of proud coquetry, she planted one hand on her sinuous hip and with the other playfully gripped the handle of the fake, chromed laser pistol.
'An eccentric model for a completely out-of-his-mind CEO. Perfect match,' Natalie thought, smiling faintly as her fingers imperceptibly brushed the hem of her tailored dress.
The two women continued to chat amiably inside the dressing room, touching upon various topics: the detailed account of the photoshoot just concluded, the rich new proposals for collaboration received from some historic European fashion houses, and even the concrete possibility of an imminent cinematic debut in the heart of Hollywood.
XXX
Half an hour later, the supermodel and her personal assistant found themselves suspended in the sky above Las Vegas, enveloped in the silent luxury of an Aerodyne Excalibur in a brilliant metallic green shade. The magnetic levitation vehicle sliced through the air with an almost imperceptible hiss, speeding along the preferential sky lanes and looking down upon the chaotic traffic of conventional wheeled cars, reduced to a blurred trail of dazzling headlights.
The interior of the flying limousine was a triumph of handcrafted leather and glossy carbon fiber inserts. Large, matte digital screens projected real-time flight data.
"A close friend of mine often tells me about how Robert House literally shaped the entire industry and economy of the United States over the course of the twentieth century," Natalie began, gently resting her chin against her gloved hand as her feline eyes stared at the panorama beyond the armored window. Outside, the Las Vegas Strip was a sea of pixels: gigantic three-dimensional holographic panels from RobCo projected images of Nuka-Cola and the new Cyberware modules into the void, saturating the desert darkness with a shifting neon light. "But Leonardo House... he has managed to leave an indelible mark in such a short time."
"And we are still only at the beginning," Shin Jae-eun murmured, turning toward her with an enigmatic smile that lit up her youthful features. The model caressed the body of the fake laser pistol she still kept at her hip, her gaze lost in the reflections of the city. "Leo always repeats to me that, within just twenty years, this entire planet will have become completely unrecognizable."
'This is exactly what terrifies SHIELD and the World Security Council,' the red-haired woman thought darkly. In her mind flashed Leonardo's psychological profiles and the ballistic analyses of the power armors that were destabilizing the Pentagon. Yet, despite the black thoughts crowding her mind, the muscles of her face did not betray the slightest tension, maintaining a perfectly friendly, relaxed, and complicit expression.
XXX
A few moments later, the Excalibur's magnetic levitation engines emitted a soft hydraulic hiss as the landing skids touched the glossy ground of the private platform in front of the Lucky 38. The gull-wing doors swung open and the two women stepped down, treading upon the immaculate marble of the monumental entrance.
"See you in two days, Natalie. Rest and enjoy yourself as best you can," the supermodel said, bidding farewell to the assistant in a warm and friendly tone.
"Paparazzo at seven o'clock," the red-haired woman suddenly whispered. Her voice had dropped a full octave, cold and precise as a laser, launching an invisible warning.
Shin Jae-eun whipped her head around. Not too far away, half-hidden by the shadow of a column, stood a middle-aged man of average height and an athletic but ordinary build. His light brown hair was short and visibly receding, his eyes a clear and attentive blue. He wore a classic tailored dark blue suit, completed by a well-starched white shirt and a strictly knotted regulation tie.
"I don't think he's a paparazzo. He looks much more like a grey State bureaucrat," Shin Jae-eun commented, sliding her gloved hand inside her high-fashion handbag with studied nonchalance.
The middle-aged man crossed the supermodel's gaze, widening his eyes slightly in visual shock. Seeing her live, wrapped in that Space Girl costume straight out of an Atompunk comic book from the early 1960s, was a bizarre experience even by his standards.
'Even more magnetic and decidedly more extravagant than the images in the dossiers,' the official thought, moving with a calm and measured step toward the two women.
"I'm Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD," he introduced himself, pulling a black leather badge holder from the inner pocket of his jacket and lifting it to show the identification document.
"Natalie, can you tell if this badge is authentic?" the supermodel asked, narrowing her lips and observing the card with palpable suspicion.
Natalie took a step forward, casting her sinuous shadow over Coulson. She stared at the document for a full minute, analyzing the grain of the watermark and the microscopic barcodes with surgical precision. "I am strongly inclined to believe it is authentic, Miss Shin," she finally concluded.
"And what does SHIELD stand for?" the model asked, tilting her head to the side. A naive gesture that, framed by the Atompunk helmet she clutched under her arm, made her even more graceful.
"SHIELD stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. But I'm not here to show off my agency's acronyms," Coulson replied with a cordial half-smile, making the document vanish into his jacket with a fluid movement. "Miss Jae-eun, you would do me an enormous favor if you helped me secure a face-to-face interview with Leonardo House. SHIELD has some urgent questions to put to him."
"If you want to discuss contracts or affairs of State, you should go to the RobCo Tower. The Lucky 38 is Leo's private residence. One enters here exclusively by invitation," Shin Jae-eun replied firmly, while her hand, still tucked inside her handbag, decisively pressed a small metallic switch: the radio-frequency panic button.
"Oh, we tried, believe me," Coulson recounted, spreading his arms with ironic resignation. "The secretary at the base of the RobCo Tower initially set up an appointment for us with a Public Relations Executive. The latter bounced us to the Chief Director of the department who, not knowing how to handle the matter, booked us an interview with Mr. House's personal assistant, Marinette Guillotin. She postponed the meeting no fewer than three times, and the fourth time she canceled it entirely via email because she had something more important to attend to. As you can see, I had to jump through hoops."
"I am simply the brand ambassador for RobCo products. My job consists of wearing incredibly expensive clothes, being photographed on the hood of a flying car, or holding a technological device. I am not involved in the internal bureaucracy of the company in the slightest," Shin Jae-eun explained, highlighting the fact that she was a model and not the vice president of the military colossus.
"We know that perfectly well. But we also know that you are one of only three women who make up Mr. House II's inner circle, and you are the only one who can directly access his presidential office without an appointment and without knocking on the door," Coulson pressed on, his expression suddenly becoming serious and official.
"I don't think Leo has the slightest desire to see you," she cut him short, offering a cordial but glacial refusal.
"I'm costly sorry, but I must insist," the SHIELD agent said, taking a step forward and closing the safety distance.
"I highly advise against taking another step toward Miss Shin," Natalie intervened. The red-haired woman physically interposed herself between the two, firmly placing a tense hand on Coulson's chest, blocking his advance.
"I just want to ask some simple questions, nothing more," Coulson replied, his gaze hardening imperceptibly behind his blue eyes.
"A middle-aged man with a badge cornering a young model to question her about her boyfriend... seems like an unpleasant situation you would do well to avoid," Natalie declared. Utilizing perfect leverage and a sharp push, she imparted such force that it compelled the agent to stagger backward a couple of steps onto the marble.
Before the tension could escalate into a physical confrontation, the heavy steel doors of the Lucky 38 swung open with a pneumatic roar. From the lobby emerged a column of ten women: an elite squad of bodyguards moving in perfect martial synchronicity, wearing dark sunglasses and with retractable tactical batons hooked to their belts.
Leading the assault group in charge of the fortress's security was Yui Ishikawa.
Leonardo House's personal bodyguard presented herself as a beautiful girl of about twenty, 168 centimeters tall, towering on her black heels. Her skin, of an extreme, smooth, and porcelain whiteness, contrasted sharply with the darkness of her attire. She possessed a slender, toned, hourglass physique (B84/W56/H88), whose proportions emphasized her pronounced hips and thighs, disguised within an athletic line, flexible and clearly trained in the most lethal martial arts. Her facial features were a masterpiece of minimalist elegance and symmetry, partially concealed but defined by a sharp jawline and soft lips. Her hair was of a shining and purest silver-white, cut into a sassy, asymmetric bob cut, slightly longer in the front, which framed her face, moving fluidly with every snap of her head.
Yui Ishikawa wore a formal and sophisticated elite bodyguard suit, heavily inspired by modern and noir tailoring aesthetics, capable of blending military rigor with minimalist sensuality. The centerpiece of the outfit was a premium quality black suit jacket, tailored to fit her figure like a second skin and enhance her narrow waist. Beneath the jacket stood out a crisp, perfectly ironed white dress shirt, fastened at the front by a smooth silk tie of an intense blood-red color. Her eyes were protected by glossy, full-coverage black sunglasses, which replaced her classic tactical visor and gave her an impenetrable air. On her hands, she wore tight black leather gloves that disappeared beneath the sleeves of the jacket, while her legs were elongated by elegant black cigarette pants, ending in high-heeled black boots.
'Arrived just in time. Thank goodness I activated the distress beacon right away,' Shin Jae-eun thought, drawing a sigh of relief as the situation came back under control.
In a second, the ten security guards formed a literal, impassable human wall, separating Phil Coulson from the two women.
"Are you alright?" Yui Ishikawa asked. Her voice was a metallic whisper, cold and strictly professional.
"Yes, we're fine. Nothing happened, just a slightly too persistent government bureaucrat," Shin Jae-eun explained, adjusting the collar of her Atompunk suit.
"For your own personal good, I advise you to take a long walk away from the perimeter of the Lucky 38. I suggest a cultural visit to the Neon Museum," Yui declared, sliding her black-gloved fingers over the steel handle of the retractable baton. The message was crystal clear.
Coulson sized up the ten women lined up before him: every single one of them was extraordinarily beautiful, in flawless physical condition, and armed.
"Great idea. I think I really will take a nice walk up to the Neon Museum," Coulson replied, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He spun on his heels 180 degrees and began to walk away along the Strip at a steady pace, without turning back even once.
"He is decidedly smarter than the average of his colleagues," Yui commented in a firm voice, almost regretful she hadn't resolved the dispute with a healthy demonstration of choreographic violence.
"Now that is a memorable way to conclude a tiring day of work," Natalie commented, running a hand through her red hair and feigning an air of exhaustion and shock from that encounter.
"Perhaps, as a precautionary measure, you had better spend the night here, in one of the Lucky 38's guest suites," Shin Jae-eun proposed, worried that Natalie might be cornered or harassed by other government agents on her way home.
"Are you sure it won't be a problem? I would absolutely hate to be in the way or cause any disturbance to Mr. House," Natalie replied, maintaining a mask of cordial hesitation and shyness.
"It won't be a problem at all. You've worked by my side since the beginning, I'll vouch for you," the supermodel insisted, then turning toward the security leader.
Yui Ishikawa lowered her black sunglasses slightly, sizing Natalie up from head to toe with a penetrating gaze, as if she were scanning her bone density. After a few seconds of tense silence, she pronounced her verdict: "She can stay for the night. But she must strictly remain within the VIP guest areas. If I find her wandering through the inner corridors, I will consider her a threat."
"I know perfectly well how to behave in a house of this level. You won't even notice my presence," Natalie replied with a polite bow and an flawless smile.
The two women were thus escorted by the ten armed guards past the armored thresholds of the casino-fortress.
In the distance, along the sidewalk of the Strip, Agent Phil Coulson stopped for a moment. A small, invisible, and satisfied smile curled the corners of his lips as he whispered into the microphone hidden in his sleeve: "Agent Romanoff has infiltrated the inside of the Lucky 38. Phase one complete."
XXX
The casino area of Mr. House II's tower was not simply a gambling venue: it was a cathedral of opulence and power, one of the most exclusive and inaccessible temples of luxury in all of Las Vegas. Its golden doors opened only to a highly selected public. Strolling among the gaming tables, one could cross paths with the mayor of Las Vegas, federal prosecutors, high-profile lawyers, industry tycoons, and governors looking to unwind. Alongside them moved Hollywood actresses, internationally renowned models, and chart-topping singers, who mingled with scientists, world-famous physicists, aerospace engineers, and surgeons of excellence. Strangely, in that ultra-select milieu, there was no trace of American professional athletes; the only high-level sports figures admitted were European football players, and even they represented a clear minority in the club.
The entire hall was saturated with the smoke of expensive cigars, the clinking of crystal chips, and high-fashion perfumes. Wherever one's gaze landed, one encountered women of breathtaking beauty, belonging to different ethnicities and archetypes. The majority of them moved sinuously between the tables wearing the iconic bunny-girl costume, while a select group of female croupiers flaunted flawless and tight-fitting men's uniforms of tailored cut. To anyone else, that place would have appeared as an earthly paradise.
"I'm going to say hello to Leo. You go ahead and look around, Natalie," Shin Jae-eun said, keeping her Atompunk helmet under her arm and following the rigid stride of Yui Ishikawa toward the armored elevator, whose access was strictly reserved for the fortress personnel.
"All right, I will wait for you here. I'll take the opportunity to have a spin on a slot machine," Natalie replied with a cordial smile, going to sit on a vacant leather stool in front of a retro-futuristic terminal.
As soon as the model and the bodyguard vanished beyond the metallic doors of the elevator, the assistant's feline gaze changed radically. Her green eyes began to scan the surrounding environment at a steady rhythm, memorizing every single floor plan, the position of the hemispherical ceiling cameras, and the faces of those present.
'Inside here are the real leaders of Las Vegas, flanked by the big shots of Nevada and neighboring States,' Natalie registered mentally, calculating the political weight of every single handshake taking place in the room. Unmarried billionaires and corrupt politicians were enjoying the company of the splendid women of the staff, sipping brightly colored cocktails and unique drinks produced exclusively by the laboratories of the Lucky 38.
'But what is Leonardo House's true ultimate goal?' the SHIELD spy wondered darkly, as she inserted a chip into the chromed slot of the machine. She was absolutely certain that the new CEO of RobCo Industries was planning a colossal geopolitical move. And she also knew that, behind those seemingly crazy and eccentric statements about becoming the future "King of Mars," lay an engineering and strategic mind too sharp to be underestimated.
XXX
Inside the mirrored cabin of the armored elevator, the worldly fiction vanished instantly. Shin Jae-eun and Yui Ishikawa—universally known to the outside world as the musa and the bodyguard of RobCo Industries' CEO—took off their respective human masks. Within those walls of ballistic steel, their true names were EVE and 2B.
"Did Sandrone conclude the deal with the American military?" EVE asked, loosening the tension in her shoulders as she clutched the Atompunk helmet under her arm. Her job as a global supermodel, however lucrative, fun, and full of travel, absorbed a huge amount of her time, often leaving her in the dark about the internal dynamics of the Lucky 38.
"The demonstration in the desert was an absolute success," 2B replied, her voice maintaining a firm, precise, and rigidly military tone. "Sandrone estimates it is only a matter of time before the Pentagon floods RobCo Industries with purchase orders for our Atomic Armors."
"Is there any other fun news?" EVE pressed on, her brown eyes shining with genuine curiosity.
"Doctor Gear has officially announced that she has started the design of a new little sister for Sandrone," 2B reported, knowing exactly what could spark her cousin's enthusiasm. "The temporary code name is Ineffa."
"Congratulations to Sandrone! Our little cousin will finally have a little sister of her own. I would also really love to welcome a new member into the family," EVE exclaimed, manifesting a sincere and almost childlike joy at the idea of their circle expanding.
"I see no logical reason to rejoice over a simple numerical increase in our units," 2B commented coldly, detached from the romantic concept of family that EVE held.
"You have an entire army of sisters identical to you, you can't understand what it means to have so very few," EVE retorted, crossing her arms over the white bodice of her space suit.
The technical reality inside the Lucky 38, in fact, was divided into three distinct and sophisticated species of synthetics, each based on a different engineering philosophy:
• Sandrone: A bionic puppet unique in her kind. Although to the outward appearance she looked like a normal girl, her internal structure was entirely artificial, composed of several thousand miniaturized micro-gears and filigree levers strictly made by hand. She was the most complex and slowest type to produce by far.
• EVE and the Andro-Eidos Line: They represented the second smallest group, counting barely a dozen units compared to the hundreds of replicas of 2B. They could be considered true bio-mechanical artificial human women. Their body was a perfect mix of cultivated flesh, synthetic muscles, and artificial blood, integrated with cybernetic circuits and nanomachines. This refined synthetic biology allowed them to bleed, get tired, feel authentic emotions, and even eat. They were not assembled in a factory, but literally cultivated inside underground hydroponic capsules, where they remained to mature for several months before being ready to be "born."
• 2B with her "Mass" Synthetic Line: The most numerous and lethal class. They were not 100% machines in the conventional sense of the term—devoid of exposed gears or bolts—but perfect technological imitations of human anatomy. Beneath their biomimetic skin hid a rigid steel skeleton in special alloys, similar to that of a warfare mannequin. This frame was covered by polymers and synthetic membranes that replicated the consistency of muscles and organic tissues to the millimeter. They possessed the sense of touch, perceived heat, and felt pain; if wounded, they shed a thick, viscous red liquid. It was not real blood, but a hydraulic and lubricating service fluid designed to emulate humanity. The entire body of this series could be printed in a common automated line, with the exception of the Black Box, their quantum cerebral core—a technology so complex that only the Good Doctor could forge with his own hands.
"Speaking of which, I heard a rumor in the labs," 2B resumed, tilting her silver head slightly toward her cousin. "It seems Doctor Gear wants to start the gestation of a new little sister for your line as well. The temporary name is Ramlethal."
EVE, overcoming the bodyguard's rigidity, impulsively wrapped her in a warm embrace. "Thank you for the splendid news, cousin! I will absolutely have to buy a giant cake for the occasion. There is no better way than a party to welcome a new little sister," she exclaimed enthusiastically, demonstrating how, despite being the most skilled and shrewd synthetic in interacting with external human society, she retained an incredibly pure heart.
"You will have to postpone the purchase of the dessert to a later date," 2B checked her, keeping her black-gloved hands along the sides of her tailored jacket. "Tomorrow morning at dawn, we will leave for New Jersey. RobCo Industries has recently purchased a vast plot of land to build a new industrial complex, but during the underground excavation work, the automated workers struck something anomalous. Something that immediately drew Doctor Gear's interest."
"What exactly did they unearth?" EVE asked, widening her brown eyes with curiosity.
2B was about to answer, as her fingers brushed the control panel of the cabin: "They found a..."
DING-DING.
The electronic chime of the elevator echoed sharply within the cabin, as the steel doors opened fluidly onto the hallway of the presidential floor, completely drowning out 2B's final, crucial words.
To be continued...
XXX
Author's Note:
Tomorrow I'm going to the cinema with my brother to watch the Street Fighter movie; I know very little about that franchise, but my brother is interested in it. He likes those kinds of video games, while I prefer things like The Witcher 3 or Fallout.
I hope you liked this chapter, even if it is a bit short.